


Broken Rules

by Jay_eagle



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Body Image, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas and Martin's first time together doesn't go exactly how Douglas expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Rules

“Do – do you want to come upstairs?”

 

Martin had posed the question shyly, looking down as if he didn’t believe that Douglas would say yes. Something warm unfurled in Douglas’ heart at the sight, and he moved a fraction closer. “Even if I weren’t freezing half to death on your doorstep whilst simultaneously being soaked by the sodding drizzle, the answer would be ‘yes, absolutely’.” He grinned and reached to stroke a reassuring palm down Martin’s arm.

 

“Oh.” Martin looked surprised, but pleased. “Right. Yes. Come in.” He shot Douglas a smile, then fumbled with the door to Parkside Terrace, the key sticking before he could turn it.

 

As Douglas trailed Martin up the stairs, he tried not to let his thoughts run in too lascivious a direction. This might have been their fifth date, but Martin had so far been content to stop at holding hands, at brief stolen kisses to finish the evening before he would break away, blushing and mumbling that he didn’t want to keep Douglas from anything important.

 

Every single time this had happened, Douglas had bitten back a frustrated retort about what exactly Martin thought he might have had planned for gone 10pm at night. He could sense the nerves coursing very close to the surface of Martin’s strained composure; even so, only the knowledge that he had devoted months to gradually winning Martin over to the idea of a relationship with a colleague – with him – had kept him from messing things up with his knee-jerk sarcasm. But he  _had_ devoted months to it, this gentle wooing through compliments and light teasing and genuine affection, and eventually Martin had got the idea – Douglas wanted him.

 

Douglas wasn’t so arrogant as to expect a reward for his patient pursuit; but he was human, and so, this evening, he hoped. Consequently, when Martin shut the attic door behind the two of them and then pulled Douglas into the most passionate kiss he’d yet bestowed, Douglas’ moan of pleasure was heartfelt, to say the least. He kissed back, adoringly, running soft hands over Martin’s spine, thrilling to the feel of Martin sliding his palms down Douglas’ lumbar region to clutch at his arse.

 

Douglas took control of the clinch, bending his head to feather kisses along Martin’s jawline and down his throat while Martin gasped helplessly in his arms. Douglas reciprocated Martin’s fondling, warmly squeezing Martin’s rear and humming approval. “So lovely…” he murmured, and felt Martin shiver.

 

“Shall we…?” Martin wriggled backwards just a fraction and made a jerky gesture towards the neatly-made bed in the corner. He was blushing. “If you’d like, that is?”

 

Heat surged through Douglas’ chest. “I’d like, believe me,” he replied hoarsely, and allowed Martin to take his hand and tug him towards the futon. They kicked their shoes off almost in unison; Martin clambered on to the bed and made hasty room for Douglas, shuffling towards the attic wall.

 

Douglas slid on rather more gracefully and pulled Martin into another kiss, seeing him looking desperately nervous, all bitten lip and wrinkled brow. Martin tensed to begin with, but in the face of Douglas’ adoring kisses he slowly relaxed in Douglas’ arms, his legs gradually entwining themselves with the first officer’s calves.

 

Douglas hummed happily, feeling Martin begin to rock lightly against him. “That’s it,” he said, quietly. “Look at you.” He drew back a little to take in Martin’s face, freckles almost lost in the flushed complexion. “You’re stunning.” He kissed Martin’s nose.

 

“So – so are you – oh!” Martin jerked as Douglas reached between them for the first time, finding his cock firming in his jeans. The captain pressed forwards on instinct with a hungry whine, and Douglas’ heart sped to a gallop. He slid his hands upwards, starting to pull Martin’s t-shirt off, but then –

 

“No!” Martin grabbed at Douglas’ hands, stilling them in an instant.

 

Douglas drew back in shock, the sudden tension in Martin alarming him. “What is it?” he asked. He’d thought Martin was enjoying it – had he got the signals wrong?

 

Martin was scarlet with apparent embarrassment. “Can I – I mean, I’d rather keep my top on.” As if to emphasise his point, he tugged at the hem of his shirt, drawing it further downwards. Martin met Douglas’ eyes nervously, something Douglas couldn’t interpret behind Martin’s gaze.

 

“Of course,” Douglas said, as smoothly as he could whilst wondering what the hell Martin had in mind, if stripping didn’t form a part of it. His internal question was answered immediately as Martin reached for his fly, tentatively unzipping Douglas so he could slip his hand inside and free him from his boxers.

 

Douglas hissed relief at the warm caress, thanking the heavens that Martin wasn’t trying to stop everything, though still puzzled about why the captain should be overcome with shyness. Douglas had caught glimpses of Martin’s lightly defined musculature through his shirts from time to time, and had reflected that manual labour certainly had positive payoffs. But he supposed that body image had very little to do with reality; he mentally vowed to try and inspire more confidence in the man now kissing his collarbone with ever-increasing ardour.

 

Douglas groaned as Martin’s hand in his trousers did something that felt excruciatingly good - he hastened to reciprocate. “May I?” he asked, sliding gentle hands to Martin’s belt.

 

“Oh _God_ , yes.” Martin held still for Douglas to wrestle his trousers open, then returned to his sinuous stroking of Douglas’ cock.

 

Douglas tried to echo Martin’s movements, thrilling to the silk-steel feeling of Martin under his fingers. His hips twitched in time, pleasure sparking through his veins at the sensation of being touched so arousingly. After a few minutes, Martin’s gasps became a little more vocal, to Douglas’ relief; his teeth were on edge with the focus required not to come before Martin did. “Nearly there?” he asked, in a heated whisper, bending to kiss Martin’s still-clothed shoulder.

 

“Nearly – nearly –“ Martin bucked, and gave a sobbing moan. “Oh, oh, you’re going to make me –“

 

“That’s it, come on –“ Douglas gasped as Martin’s fist tightened fractionally on him, the firmer grip pushing him into his own climax with the suddenness of a shooting star illuminating the night sky. He cried out and blurrily realised that Martin had joined him, his hand suddenly wet in Martin’s underwear.

 

With a shuddering sigh, Martin came down again, panting where he lay in Douglas’ arms. He tried to hide his face in Douglas’ chest, but Douglas softly reached to tip Martin’s chin upwards, languid contentment still radiating through him. “Hello,” he whispered, and smiled.

 

Martin looked up from under his eyelashes, and Douglas’ breathing caught. Martin couldn’t possibly have known how deliciously fragile and beautiful he appeared, cheeks still sex-flushed and lips slightly swollen from the kisses they’d shared. “Was that… OK?” Martin asked.

 

“More than.” Douglas couldn’t not kiss him, not when he looked like that, and he met Martin’s lips with a murmur of happiness, sliding his hands to Martin’s hips to grip. Martin hummed, clearly pleased, and Douglas slipped his hands up and under Martin’s shirt, not really thinking, wanting to convey his delight, until –

 

“Martin?” Douglas pulled backwards, fingertips probing the strange ridge he’d just found on Martin’s stomach. “What -?”

 

Martin flinched backwards as convulsively as a shying horse, almost knocking his head on the wall behind him. “It’s nothing.” He tugged awkwardly at his rucked shirt, but not before Douglas caught sight of a lividly pink line disappearing under the material. Martin had gone from loose-limbed relaxation to brittle tension all in an instant, and Douglas reached to cover his hand reassuringly.

 

“Whatever it is – it’s alright,” he said seriously. He couldn’t stand the almost frightened look in Martin’s eyes. “Whatever it is, I won’t mind.”

 

“It’s ugly.” Martin’s grip on his shirt hadn’t loosened.

 

“I’m sorry.” Douglas slid a little closer, stroking his fingertips up Martin’s arm. Goosebumps raised on the skin in his wake, and he tried to chafe them away. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

 

“No.” Martin shook his head. “Don’t apologise.” He quivered a little, then leant back towards Douglas just fractionally. “I didn’t – some people don’t like it, and I didn’t want to… spoil the mood.”

 

“Is it a scar?” Douglas asked the question as gently as he could.

 

Martin hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”

 

“It’s up to you, of course –“ Douglas dropped a butterfly kiss to Martin’s forehead – “but scars don’t bother me.”

 

The expression on Martin’s face was slightly disbelieving. “Really?”

 

Douglas nodded. “Ex-medical student, remember?” He stilled his hand, wanting to reassure without pushing for anything Martin wouldn’t be comfortable with. Martin looked as if he was considering something – Douglas recognised the captain’s ‘reflective’ face from work – and while Martin mulled, he reached for a tissue. “Here.” He mopped at his own skin, then moved to Martin’s fly. “Want me to clean you?”

 

Martin blushed and nodded. “Please.”

 

Douglas tenderly blotted away the dampness, while avoiding making contact with Martin’s now-softened cock, which would surely be feeling sensitive. He could feel Martin watching him, but he performed the action in silence, allowing Martin space to think. He rolled to drop the tissue over the edge of the bed into the bin, then turned back, intending to cuddle Martin – only to realise that Martin had taken a deep breath and was shrugging off his shirt.

 

Douglas reached on instinct to help him, pushing the tee up Martin’s arms before chucking it aside for him. Martin lay back down, and the first thing Douglas did was to kiss him, long and deeply, running his fingers down Martin’s slender throat for the pleasure of feeling him tremble. Martin kissed him back, his tongue flickering into Douglas’ mouth.

 

At last, Douglas drew away, finding that Martin immediately wrapped his arms protectively around his chest as if he were hiding. “Hey,” Douglas said, quietly. “None of that.” He bent and kissed Martin’s sternum, nudging at the folded arms with his nose. “You’re gorgeous.”

 

Martin gave a slightly sad snort of disbelief, but Douglas trailed his hand downwards, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the scar that he’d only so far felt. It was a ragged slash across Martin’s lower abdomen, pink and raised, forked at one end. Douglas could see paler dots where the wound had been stitched back together. “Looks vicious,” he said, keeping his voice calm and non-judgemental. “Fight a tiger, did you?”

 

Shaking his head, Martin tentatively reached to cover the scar with his hand, but Douglas caught him before he could, drawing his palm to Douglas’ own cheek instead. He held Martin there, cupping his fingers. “Don’t hide.” He met Martin’s eyes, willing the captain to see his sincerity. “It’s fine. It’s not bad.”

 

Martin shivered. “'S'horrid. I hate it.”

 

By way of answer, Douglas simply leant forwards and planted a run of kisses all along the scarred skin. “It’s part of you.”

 

“You – you don’t mind?” Martin’s disbelief was evident, but Douglas closed his eyes in pleasure as the captain’s hand tangled in his hair, caressing Douglas’ scalp. He pressed up into the touch like a sun-drenched cat.

 

“I like every bit of you, Martin Crieff.” He bent to kiss the slash once more, then slid back up Martin’s body to find his mouth again.

 

Martin responded to his lips rather vaguely, still clearly amazed at what was happening. When they broke apart again, though, the beginnings of a smile twitched his mouth upwards. Douglas beamed at him and they cuddled closer together, so near that they were sharing air, Douglas’ hand gently smoothing down Martin’s side over and over, a calming metronome to their breathing.

 

“I was seventeen.” Martin’s quiet voice broke the silence eventually. Douglas didn’t reply, just listening. “I – I wouldn’t listen to my parents when I was grounded.”

 

“Grounded? You?” Douglas couldn’t keep incredulous amusement out of his tones, but the humour died as he took in Martin’s serious expression.

 

“I never wanted to obey the rules. Not then.” Martin took in a shuddering breath. “There was a party I wanted to go to.” He ducked his head, but continued. “I climbed out of my bedroom window, tried to get down the drainpipe.”

 

Foreboding filled Douglas’ soul. “You slipped.”

 

Martin nodded. “I fell right through my Dad’s greenhouse.”

 

Douglas’ indrawn breath was sharp as an unwanted mental picture of the accident presented itself to him. Martin carried on. “It was a good job my parents were home. They heard the smash, and my mum came out.” He swallowed. “I was lying on the ground, and I had a huge chunk of the glass embedded – here.” His fingers ran over the scar.

 

“I can’t believe you survived.” Douglas’ voice was hoarse again, but with distress rather than arousal, this time.

 

“I nearly didn’t.” Martin was quiet for a moment. “Ambulance, emergency surgery. My Mum sobbing.” He held Douglas tighter. “After that… rules didn’t seem so funny anymore.”

 

Douglas bit his lip, remorse suddenly flooding through him. All the times he’d teased pernickety Martin, calling him a stickler, thinking him a risk-averse bore. _Who wouldn’t be, after something like that?_ “I –“ he began, but realised he didn’t really know what to say.

 

“It’s OK.” Martin looked up at him again. “I got better.” He gestured at his stomach. “But that – that scar’s never gone away.” He looked embarrassed. “Lots of people haven’t liked it.”

 

By way of answer, Douglas bent to kiss him again, burning passion inflaming the action until it was almost desperate, yearning flitting back and forth between the two of them. “I like you,” he whispered. “All of you.”

 

“I – well. I – I –“

 

“It’s OK.” Douglas cradled Martin’s head, then kissed him again. “All of you,” he repeated.

 

Martin let out a deep sigh, but there was something contented and relieved clearly running through the exhalation. “I like you too.” He held Douglas tightly, warmth filling both of them. “Stay with me?”

 

Douglas knew that Martin meant for the night, but happiness beat inside him at the words. “Of course I'm not leaving,” he murmured, and cuddled Martin close. “I’m here.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the fic, do drop in to my Tumblr - jay-eagle.tumblr.com.


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